


Hamilton On Your Side

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Election of 1800, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9942425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Congress is hopelessly divided, and unless Thomas Jefferson wins himself some more ballots the election will remain deadlocked. Madison offers some advice, advice which is almost painful to even consider, but it may be his last shot. He's going to need to sway Alexander Hamilton to his side.





	

Madison’s advice had been ringing in Jefferson’s head ever since the conversation about what to do with Burr. The mere idea of sucking up to Alexander Hamilton of all people just for the likelihood of swaying the Congress was embarrassing. He’d rather congratulate Burr for his bravery and commitment to his own ideals than beg for an endorsement. 

 

But as he slept on it, the idea lost the bitter and prickly edge it had taken, soon becoming what he was reluctant to call a good idea. Madison had practically slapped him on the back when he revealed this fact to him, and he still had the sore spot to prove it. His _friend’s_ next piece of advice was to actually head uptown and confront the man before Burr did, an idea which also grew on him as Congress tried, and failed, to come to an agreement for what had to be the fifth time that month.

 

Though he had no recollection of actually travelling there, Jefferson soon found himself in a less dense part of the city, where it was rather humble, to say the least. The people still nodded respectfully at him, and activity of the city was clear, though downscaled. A woman ended up directing him to the property where she had seen Hamilton disappear into every morning after his walks, and each house blurred into another until he came to rest at one that was rather unlike the others.

 

The property was well groomed, but lacked the chatter and busyness that he would have expected from Hamilton’s abode. The chimney puffed out a steady cloud of smoke, the sound of crackling from inside only overshadowed by the uplifting sound of children laughing. At first he would have mistaken it for the school children up street, if not for the sudden blur of brown curls spinning in front of the property. 

 

One kid led to another, until four of them were circling around something on the ground. The chants grew more incessant, an overpowering cry as they jeered themselves on. Whatever game they were partaking in was exciting enough to keep them invested up until Jefferson had walked up to the path leading into the small house.

 

By the time he reached the gate one of them had finally noticed he was there, and jumped back a pace or two. This caught the attention of his brothers, who left the game alone with the interest of watching the strange man who had made his way onto their lawn.

 

He waited for one of them to ask who he was, maybe introduce themselves, but nothing happened.

 

Jefferson cleared his throat. “You must be Hamilton’s kids.” He bent over slightly to appear less intimidating, but the group took a step back to distance themselves. With a grunt, Jefferson rose back to his full height and crossed his arms, glancing back at the pile of leaves that they had been studying.

 

“What were you doing just now?” Not a peep. Jefferson hummed to himself.

 

“Your father and I used to be co-workers. By chance is he home?” One of the kids in the back nodded, cheeks puffed out. Another went as far as to point at the door, which was good enough for Jefferson. He smiled at them in return.

 

“...Thomas Jefferson?” He cocked his head in the direction of the feminine voice, locking eyes with Elizabeth Hamilton. She took one look at him, then back at the kids, before making a come here motion with her hand.

 

“Children, please come back inside.” Some of the boys groaned, but her orders were firm, clipping the children’s objections short. Jefferson knew she was still living with her husband, but seeing her again was a bit of a shock, especially since she looked threatening enough to ward off a demon. On command, the four obediently trudged inside, the youngest sparing Thomas a short look before scampering after his siblings and through the door where Elizabeth stood guard.

 

Elizabeth’s glare took no prisoners, her eyes practically glinting. To her, Jefferson must have meant more trouble, and he couldn’t blame her. The revelation of adultery, the loss of a close sister, and the death of her first born son all in the span of such a short amount of time must have shaken her to her roots. The only thing she had left to lose was right behind her, and seeing a man so involved with her husband’s demise come so close was likely the last straw.

 

He tried to pacify her with a smile, but her frown only deepened until her nose scrunched up and her forehead wrinkled. One of her hands clutched the doorframe, while the other was rested behind her, pushing the children back. 

 

“I don’t recall you writing a letter to inform us of your arrival Mr. Jefferson. What concerns you with our presence?” She gritted.

 

“I wish to speak with your husband.” He kept his reply short as could be, but it appeared to only aggravate her further. 

 

“What, so you can-“

 

“Before you ask, it has nothing to do with his former position or our rivalry. Quite the opposite actually. I would greatly appreciate if you could spare the time to let us talk.”

 

“It’s clear he has no reason to be talking to you, so I have right to assume you’re here to gloat,” She persisted, voice as hard as iron.

 

“I assure you Elizabeth,” She stiffened, “My apologies, Mrs. Hamilton, I am not here to fight. I wish for a civil conversation.” He tried to relax his facial features and add a dosage of sympathy to his eyes, “And I also intend to offer my condolences for your loss-“

 

“Save it,” She snapped, “Please don’t make your visit long, I need to have dinner on the table soon.” Jefferson nodded, and without another word she turned and released her grip on the doorframe so that he could enter. The two kids that had been observing from behind their mother dashed into another corridor as he let himself in, likely coming to the conclusion that he was unwelcome from their mother’s response.

 

Despite its smaller size, the house was warm and kept in repair. Wafting smells of cooked meat were present, though it didn’t appear like the family was ready to eat yet. It didn’t matter, as Elizabeth made sure to keep him on his toes. She led him down a narrow passage that led to a series of doors, the farthest illuminated by a white light.

 

She approached the door in question and raised a knuckle up above the knob. She held it there longer than necessary, as if mustering the courage, before she rapped it twice in rapid fashion. 

 

“Mr. Jefferson is here to see you.” She addressed the man inside briefly and as soon as she had appeared, she vanished, likely retreating back to the kitchen. He had no time to relieve his pity before a squeak  signalled the door opening, and his head shot back quick enough to see a set of fingers wrench it back more. Inch by inch the darkness gave way until both men locked eyes in what once might have been a challenge. 

 

However, there was a surprising lack of that.

 

The man that was staring back at him looked devoid of any familiarity. The roots of hair on his scalp were becoming an alarming gray that made the normally feisty man look so old. A pang of longing hit him square in the chest, surprising even Jefferson himself. He had always considered Hamilton his equal in wit and spite, so to see his foe so exhausted and mild was like sticking his hand into a bucket of cold water.

 

“Jefferson,” He confirmed, the wheeze in his voice a bit too obvious. The glasses resting on the tip of his nose moved up slightly as he spoke, bringing them to Jefferson’s attention. The panels of glass hid eyes that lacked any notorious fire. “What a surprise.”

 

“Hamilton,” Jefferson said, the name coming easily to his tongue. Hamilton bobbed his head as if to confirm he heard it, and gestured inside with tense shoulders. 

 

It was no room in the Monticello, but it still garnered enough charm to be considered cozy. Papers were strewn about, some painted full of ink and words, others there simply because they had been knocked off of some surface. In the midst of it all was a desk by the only window, which harboured a single quill and a candle stub he assumed would be used later.

 

The inspection was interrupted by a brief cough, and no sooner did the weary form of Hamilton step back into view was the door shutting firmly behind them. Any giggles from the children had long since gone mute, which he assumed was Elizabeth’s doing, and because of it the house was so empty. It mirrored Hamilton, who blended into his surroundings so well that he may have disappeared. 

 

“I would ask what it is you’re doing here,” Hamilton said as he discarded some of the loose papers on the bed into a desk cabinet, “But Burr made it abundantly clear yesterday.”

 

“Ah, I expected he would have paid you a visit. He needs your help just as much as I do, though,” Jefferson pushed some of his curls away from his eyes, “I never thought he would go out of his way to bait it out of you.”

 

“He’s desperate,” Hamilton confirmed, “You know as well as I do that he would have taken any opportunity. You wouldn’t be the first ally he would have turned his back on to secure his own success by doing virtually nothing.” The waver in his voice spoke volumes, and Jefferson had to remind himself that at one point Burr and Hamilton had been close, or as close as he could possibly be considering the type of relationship they had. 

 

If Hamilton was going over the same thought, he chose not to voice it. His hands were loosening his collar and cravat slowly, eyes deep in a trance as he completely ignored Jefferson for a brief moment. The Virginian kept still for as long as he could, before the silence began eating away at his composure. He didn’t come here to look back at the better times, and especially not to throw a pity party with Hamilton. 

 

“Hamilton I’m sure I don’t have to convince you why I’m worried. With Burr so undecided and gluttonous we’re being shoved in a corner, and he’s somehow got half the country backing up his side of no promises and zero achievements,” Jefferson ranted as he started walking in the direction of his rival. “I could name a hundred reasons on the spot of why you would make a terrible President, but at least you strived for something when you were Secretary. I could see the direction you were coming from, and whether that made you powerful or not is completely up to interpretation.” He inhaled deeply, bringing his shoulders up, “That’s not the point though.”

 

Shoes tapped against the floorboards but even as he paced Hamilton didn’t reply. He was still arranging papers by the desk as the worn curtains flapped obtrusively by his side. Jefferson hummed, then made his way over to his rival’s side, his shadow swallowing the shorter man up.

 

His dark brown curls brushed against Hamilton’s clothed shoulder as he leaned down to talk into his ear. “Aren’t you the least bit upset that he backstabbed you so easily Hamilton?”

 

“Oh, and you didn’t you pompous ass?” Hamilton grimaced, looking over his shoulder. “I recall you being right by his side when you accused me of embezzlement.”

 

Jefferson rolled his eyes, a brief chuckle escaping from his lips. “For one, I wasn’t on your side to begin with, and two, I was honest about my intentions the whole way through.” He moved his right hand onto Hamilton’s shoulder to secure some kind of connection, but the ex-Secretary shrugged it off immediately with a growl.

 

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I needed to hear.” Hamilton pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, “But you’re here for a reason, and I’m not here to keep you. Say what you need to so we can get this over with.”

 

“Thank you kindly for the interest, but you don’t need to fabricate intrigue in what I plan to do. That’s not the issue at hand,” Jefferson replied, “I already know you won’t agree with any campaign promises of mine, especially those concerning France and your precious banks, but the same could be said for Burr. You have a hard choice to make between the two of us, and I want to help you make the right one.” Cheesy it may be, but he had no time to be throwing insults at his foe’s past judgement.

 

“So quick to assume things Mr. Jefferson, though I’ll admit you aren’t wrong. You can spare the heavy details. What I want to know is why you came all the way here knowing that there’s nothing but bad blood in-between us.”

 

“At least I’m not afraid to acknowledge that I’ve wronged you.”

 

“Acknowledging it doesn’t erase the fact that you still did it,” Hamilton hissed. “The both of you are awful, and if you hadn’t been so quick to ruin my reputation we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

 

“ _Hey_ ,” Jefferson stressed, “You were the one that decided to have an affair. You were the one that revealed to us what you were doing-“

 

“You left me with no choice! It was either that or I be accused of speculation!” Hamilton slammed his hands down on the littered desk, the resounding bang making Jefferson flinch.

 

The Virginian  bared his teeth, excitement clear. “And then you published the Pamphlet. That was all your doing. I may have edged things along but you have no one to blame for it but yourself.” Hamilton whipped around, face flushed in anger. 

 

“If you’re trying to convince me you mean well, you’re doing quite an awful job at it,” He spat, hands forming knuckles as the poor letter caught in between crumbled under the show of force. Even with how pissed off he looked, it was nothing compared to the show of anger he might have once coughed up.

 

Jefferson shrugged, “It had to be said. You might want to release that letter of yours.” He pointed down at the display. Hamilton glanced down, then let the wrinkled paper drift to the floor to join the others.

 

“You’ve already made your distaste with me clear, so if you’re just going to rehash what the world has already scolded me for I need to ask that you leave.”

 

“No need to get hostile there _Alexander_ ,” Thomas smirked, putting some distance between him and the man fuming in the corner, “With the House of Representatives tied up it’s come to neck and neck fighting over in Congress. I can’t pull through without some kind of leverage.” He braced one of his legs against the wall as his face kept a close watch on Hamilton. The man remained slouched where he was, mind likely running as fast as it possibly could to spit out an answer.

 

The tousled head of hair suddenly snapped up, as if he’d been brought back to reality. “Which I shouldn’t even ponder giving you.”

 

“It is true we’ve had our differences and I’m not about to say we set them aside. I’m asking you think of what’s best for the country, as at the end of the day that’s who we’re fighting for. I thought since you had so much experience working with me you would find some comfort in knowing I know how to handle myself in a position of overwhelming power.”

 

“And in your opinion, Burr is inadequate of doing that?” Rhetorical it may be, but Jefferson took the bait.

 

“Oh Hamilton, you and I both know he’s as jittery as an old gun. His lack of principals endangers us all, and he’s only looking out for his own benefits. Every action he’s taken thus far has been not for the good of the country, but to make something he can use in his favour. I don’t know about you,” He glanced up warily at Hamilton, “But I don’t want a man like that coming to power if I have the ability to stop it.”

 

Fingers tapped along the edge of the windowsill with anticipation, the fading light hitting Hamilton’s shrivelled appearance with full force. “Neither would I, but should I trust someone as impulsive as you with so much power?” Jefferson opened his mouth, but Hamilton waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t answer that. I’ll give you this; you’re right.”

 

Jefferson nodded along. “He’s a double crosser and a delinquent. You’re smart Hamilton. I know you’ve already come to that consensus.”

 

“I struggle now with whether or not I’ll regret this later.” Hamilton pursed his lips, his head turning to look at the currently unused desk. “Everything you stand for is what I’m against. Is it really worth it?”

 

“I suppose that’s up to you to decide, but I warn you he’s not to be trusted. We may have never agreed but,” Thomas took in a deep breath, “When the going gets tough, we seem to be able to agree on what gives us both mutual benefit.”

 

In response to Hamilton’s raised eyebrows, he hurried to justify himself. “It’s partly the truth. If you would say, _endorse_ me, then your influence would be able to sway the votes.” He crept up beside Hamilton again, feeling the tension begin to spark, “And we’ll push Burr right off his little pedestal.”

 

“You just can’t give the man a break can you Jefferson. It’s in your blood to ruin his political pursuits.”

 

“See Hamilton, that’s where we start to become alike.” Hamilton opened his mouth to object, but Jefferson silenced him with a single finger. “Your whole life has been about taking what he wanted right out from under his nose. I would know, he would stew about it all the time when we worked alongside each other.”

 

“Burr’s reluctance to engage in any action and state his beliefs was what damned him. I simply chose to create my own legacy.”

 

“Trust me, you did that.” Hamilton shot him a glare, and he sobered up, “But regardless, you’re right. He’s too soft, too unsure.”

 

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Hamilton’s shoulders finally relaxed, and he leaned back against the desk so he could look at Jefferson properly.

 

“So how about it Hamilton, will you help me?” The man only looked away, eyebrows furrowed. “I could really use you on my side.”

 

“..I’m sure you could.” And it seemed that was all he had to say on the matter. Immediately after he went back to ignoring the man right in front of him, the weight of the decision he was about to make hanging over his head.

 

“Oh come now Hamilton,” Jefferson persisted, “There’s no need to let a few past arguments cloud your judgement about me. I’ll be honest here, I always thought if we could settle our disagreements we could have made a great team.”

 

Hamilton scoffed, “Fat chance of that. Flattery won’t get you anywhere Jefferson.”

 

“I’m only speaking the truth,” Jefferson batted his eyelashes, “Been rather quiet without a political opponent cooking up a spitfire. Say what you will about your stubbornness, but you kept me at my best at all times, and ever since Adams’ decision I’ve been left with people like Burr as opposition. He could never match up, and his actions to desperately grant himself real power are downright laughable. You on the other hand-“

 

“That’s enough Jefferson. I don’t take bribes, especially ones as weak as your own.”

 

“This has nothing to do with the election. Though it may not seem like it, I do highly respect you. I would rather be facing you and have this end in a glorious showdown than ever have to share a seat with Burr.” It was a blow to his pride, but watching Hamilton’s stern face fade into something a bit milder bandaged up any regrets he had. 

 

Hamilton resorted to holding his face in his hands, locks of hair swinging in front of his concealed features. Jefferson could hear a sharp inhale before the pair of hands were dropped to his sides, and Hamilton was once again standing up straight as a rifle. At this height he resembled the man he once was, eyes dead set on provoking a challenge.

 

“I’m not going to lie Jefferson, your policies are trash.”

 

Jefferson blinked once. “Excuse me?” His features betrayed his surprise, the answer given being the polar opposite of what he’d expected. In exchange for a heartfelt confession Hamilton thought it would be nice to go for another blow.

 

“You’re insufferable to be around at times and a total manipulator. You’ll pick favourites and then use whatever influence you have to ensure your own success. On top of that, you’re a total hypocrite, and overall have been nothing but a thorn in my side since you came back to America.” Jefferson sat, aghast, as Hamilton continued on. Once the initial astonishment finally started to wear off and Hamilton prepared to speak again he rose up, ready to interrupt.

 

Hamilton rose a single finger. “But you’re committed to the country,” He admitted, letting out an overbearing sigh. Jefferson froze in place.

 

“And you have the experience. You have the ability to lead a country, and you don’t gamble all you own to earn yourself more votes. Your beliefs may be shit, but they’re still beliefs.” He looked Thomas square in the eye. “You’re not afraid to talk me down and stand for what you think should be done around here. I guess, to use your phrasing, that’s something to respect you for.”

 

Hamilton extended a hand out of courtesy, clasping onto Jefferson’s, which was still expecting a fight. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll leave you with that.” 

 

It was by no means anything special, they had come to agreements before, but he still felt reassured by the notion. A flicker of hope that he might leave the Hamilton residence with a victory under his belt fanned itself into a flame.

 

In a moment of bliss, he used the excuse of the handshake to pull Hamilton into an embrace. The smaller man immediately tried to pull away, but Jefferson let his left arm shake around his back to pin him there. After realizing it was a lost cause, Hamilton glared daggers up at his foe, cheeks burning from his rants and raving. Jefferson meekly smiled, then took on a more serious expression as he leaned in close.

 

“I never got to console you over the loss of your son. I’m sorry.” Hamilton stiffened in his hold and tried to break free with a few violent twitches. “For my involvement, I apologize. Madison was particularly shaken up by it too. I guess you could say the guilt’s been eating us alive.”

 

“You weren’t the one that shot him on the count of seven,” Hamilton lamented, his voice muffed by Jefferson’s long jacket. “It was all my fault. I sent him out there and got him killed. He died defending me.”

 

“You weren’t the one that shot him,” Jefferson parroted. Hamilton exhaled, his forehead resting against when Jefferson’s collarbone should be. 

 

It ended up being drawn out longer than Jefferson initially liked, but Hamilton for one looked better off, like he’d finally come to terms with something. He was no longer looking at Jefferson, and whether it be out of embarrassment or appreciation, the Virginian couldn’t tell. He could only watch on as Hamilton pulled out a chair and plunked himself into it so that he was level with the desk. His hand reached for the only quill. 

 

“I suppose you’ll hear from me in a few days.” 

 

Jefferson knew what a dismissal was when he saw one, and respectfully nodded to the man. The resolution may not have been anticipated, but he said what he wanted to say and for once had a quiet conversation with Alexander Hamilton without Madison by his side. As he descended back down the steps and out the front door, mindful of Elizabeth’s watchful eyes, he couldn’t help but smile.

 

It felt nice to have Hamilton on his side.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's a running trend for me to post stories at one in the morning, so you may find a few errors here and there. For the record, I know absolutely nothing about American politics, or any type of politics for that matter, so some information provided might be flaws. I relied on Internet research a bit too much, haha.


End file.
